


Of Gods and Beasts

by CelestialFairytale



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Character Death, Drama & Romance, F/M, Female Anti-Hero, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, Necromancy, Psychological Drama, Psychological Horror, Reader Is Chara, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialFairytale/pseuds/CelestialFairytale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{Necromancer!Reader X Drrr!}<br/>Life and death always fascinated you, but you always favored the latter. And this city looks like a place perfect for the last dance with Lady Death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

Ikebukuro was a strange place, exceptionally vibrant and accepting, like a mother who'd embrace each and every one like her own flesh and bones. It didn't take long for her to get sucked into that whirlpool of everlasting events and to almost feel like a part of this district.

Almost.

Everything happened around her, and she was allowed to spectate those events, but never take part in any of them. Even though she could explore the inner depths of Ikebukuro, roam its streets and examine just about any detail that piqued her interest, the city still remained cold and distant, perhaps not being able to unfold upon the calculative and heartless eyes of the necromancer.

Those very same eyes lunged to the wavering lights of the dusk consumed Ikebukuro, her thin, black coat fluttering a heated dance for the fierce wind. Her feet were few inches away from the edge of the moonlit rooftop, yet her posture was enough to tell others that she was no jumper. She pondered endlessly to whom the old blood stain belonged, imagined how the dead body was scraped off the pavement, how those soulless eyes rolled back in the head for the eternal sleep. 

It was beautiful. 

Not the blood stain, of course- the young necromancer was never too fond of blood or gore, and perceived a human body with its share of imperfections. The beauty lied in the process of human breaking free of chains, of the abandonment of hedonistic pleasures and simple earthly urges. The act of division, one that would leave the fleshy prison to rot and open up the gates for something that would emerge out of the body, something that would remain after inevitable end of the body. Maybe it was soul, maybe sheer energy, or maybe nothing in the end- she did not know, but all those thoughts in the chilling breeze made her body shake in the best kind of thrill. 

Distant footsteps awakened her from her slumber and she turned to welcome whoever has decided to join her in the silence, away from the city. Her eyes fell upon a man with a leather motorcyclist outfit, bright yellow helmet covering his head. She moved to this city recently, and there were no people that she actually knew, so this man, who soon typed something into his PDA and flashed the message towards the girl, remained a mystery to her.

[Are you Etsuko Mimisa?]

Her eyes narrowed into two sharp slits as she examined the person in front of her further. It was searching for someone, obviously. If this were to be just a coincidence, she'd be awfully polite and try to help the person out with finding whoever they wished to find. Yet this time, she knew that the motorcyclist was no human. It reeked of death- and not of corpses or drugs, but of the true smell of death, of a murderer that has bathed in blood for far too long. She shuddered as the possibility of this being a reaper who'd come to claim her life unraveled before her, but soon shrugged it off as something impossible. 

After all, she was not Etsuko Mimisa, but there was something that drew her to this enigma of a creature. For far too long she has stood by, not bothering to participate in the play that the puppeteer so carefully prepared. Perhaps it was today that she could take part in one of the happenings of Ikebukuro. 

She didn't bothered to give any kind of answer, and as she lingered longer the man stepped a bit closer, hastily typing into his PDA once again.

[Someone who you were supposed to meet here wants me to take you to a certain place]

By the time she read the message, the motorcyclist was just on the other side of the railing, her own eyes reflecting on the shield of the helmet. Even though no voice or face displayed the emotion, she could tell by how frantically he typed and how stubbornly he faced her that the man was worried about her safe being. She wondered who this Etsuko Mimisa really was, where she had gone to, what she had herself involved into, but brushed those thoughts off.

She slowly climbed onto the other side of the rooftop, the presumably safe one, and raised her eyes to the man in black, who signaled her to follow him. As the two of them descended to where a pitch black motorbike rested, the motorcyclist stopped abruptly, his fingers brushing lightly against the screen as it pondered for a while. She felt her lips curl downwards and she impatiently tapped her foot against the pavement, hardly containing her excitement for taking over someone's life and identity for even a while. The thought of wearing someone's skin, of peeping into their secrets and their ugly sides, of playing the role of someone who already existed fascinated her, and she strove only for action, for the culmination of this petty little play.

The man in black typed something in the PDA and erased it, fidgeting around nervously. He glanced through his shoulder, finally soothing his heart and laying the those thoughts in the mechanical device.

[I don't really know how to say this but... No matter what problems you are facing, that man is not going to help you. And even though it might look like your life is insufferable, one day it will get better. You just have to live and take care of yourself to see that day come to life]

She didn't know exactly how to reply since it was actually nice to see a complete outsider actually care for others in need, but it was pretty ironic in her position- she managed to prevent her sly smirk from gracing her features. 

"...I know. But thank you for telling me that " It felt like forever since she spoke and her voice was raspier than she remembered it being. It probably added up to the effect of her being some depressed, lonely girl so she didn't really mind- after all, today turned out to be more exciting than any day she spent her in this city. 

The man nodded gently and signaled her to join him on the motorbike. 

They rode off to the darkness, or more exact, towards the undying source of light, but she focused more on the warmness of the Death's associate and his motorbike, that calmly neighed every once in a while. The breeze dishevel her clothing, trying hard to rip her off the pulsating body of the rider, yet the thoughts that occupied her head could not be pushed out. She still wondered who this creature was, why it couldn't talk, and how exactly was it linked with death. It was not a grave keeper or a necromancer, nor a priest either, so it was probably something out of this world, something that she had not yet encountered and had no knowledge of. 

The bike stopped in the city square, where dozens of people still sauntered around, blind to each other's worries. 

[This is where he is waiting. I can help you find him, since there are a lot of people around here]

She managed to squeeze out a fake smile and nodded gently.

"I would be very thankful" She knew already that this venture had no real outcome, only a bundle of consequences and misunderstandings, however, for some reason she could not allow herself to back out of this challenge. The creature in black, the one whose face she did not see yet, continued to intrigue her further, filling her up with the feeling of safety, happiness, in a way leading her towards her noble goal- that was something she hadn't felt for a while.

It was as if it was the warmness that this creature emitted actually managed to gnaw through the icy facade of her chest, reaching out to her heart and--

Finding it as stony and indifferent as ever. 

The rider in black leaded the way, gently pushing past people to whom the nearby urban legend remained unnoticeable. Too caught up in their own lives and problems, their own little miracles, they failed to see a real phenomenon that brushed past them. Then again, it was nothing surprising, because it was in human nature to strive for the knowledge, yet refuse it whenever it came knocking on your doorstep. 

The rider finally stopped, blocking the girl's view with it's slender back, typing something down and showing it to the person in the front. The girl managed to poke her head out to examine her surroundings, only to come eye to eye with a slyly smirking man. 

He looked pretty odd in terms of outfit, but one could not deny that he was good-looking (although, the girl just could not feel any emotional attraction to a living person). Some kind of odd aura surrounded him, something that flared 'danger', not to mention that the dark smirk, which could be considered a mere smile by someone naiver than her, clearly signalling his troublesome nature. However, this one was a human, at least, not someone associated with death. That was a good thing, since she would not want to deal with someone like him, especially with things were to get a bit more complicated.

The dark haired man's eyes finally left the motorcyclist and descended upon her, two crimson eyes reflecting daunting moonlight. She saw how his lips twitched for a second and she felt her own body flinch when that gaze laded upon her, piercing through her brittle masks. It felt as if she saw her right through, and knew everything about her.

Did he know that she has a clear goal here, in Ikebukuro? Does he know that she is not a mere human, but in fact one that wields the bodies of the dead- a woman committed to the dark arts? Can he sense the grief that she carries within herself? Can he understand the duties she has to carry out, to free herself of guilt shackles?

"I'm sorry, transporter" the man's mood does not falter but his flamboyant and relaxed posture stiffens as he slips his hands into his pockets. "But who is this?" His velvety voice is like the most lethal poison, one that appeals with scent and flavor, yet as soon as it slides down your throat, it ruptures your lungs and tears your body to shreds. The so called transporter almost drops his PDA as his glance shifts from man to girl and vise versa. 

[H-HUH??!!]

Her eyes still remain on the man, debating on whether or not there is a weapon in his pocket. Cautious was her middle name, after all, and she was pretty helpless here. It irked her a lot, that even if she'd manage to disarm him, he'd still be able to defeat her only on his brute strength- despite looking slim and elegant, he was still a man, taller and stronger than her. 

[You mean you don't know her?!?]

The man shook his head, a playful smile still playing on his face as if it was all just a game for him, despite the fact that the courier seemed to be sweated over the situation a lot. 

"Isn't that just disappointing?" The man feigned hurt, dramatically shaking his head and rubbing his temple with his pale fingers. "To think that my most trusted transporter, the hero of damsels in distress, failed to carry out her task! And if whoever this is" He lazily pointed towards her, without bothering to look at her again. "Is here, means that the other girl, that suicidal one" He paused merely, obviously taking pleasure in seeing the awfully calm and stiff transporter, smirking a bit wider. "Is God knows where"

"Who knows? Maybe she just left and went home" Once again, he motioned towards the swarming crowd of people, preoccupied with everything but the dark haired man and the courier. He sighed deeply, as if his own speech has brought him the feeling of melancholy, but apart from the mask full of diverse emotions, she could tell that in the end, beneath those layers, his heart could not quiver one bit, since empathy remained unknown to him. "Back to this cruel world where no one needs or loves her, to continue her existing as a sad, lonely and pitiful creature" He pressed his hands against his chest, his face once again twisting with fake pain. In the end, this really was all just a play, perhaps even a bit too obvious, since even she, who had met the man only recently, could tell. It was amusing nonetheless. "Since humans are all lonely things, especially if there's no one there to comfort them"

As soon as the man was content with the shock that he has planted upon the rider, he once again tucked his hands into his pockets, shrugging gently, as if he wasn't one blaming the rider seconds ago.

"Oh, well. Too bad. You could have at least brought someone more interesting" For the last time, he cast a bored glance to her, wrinkling his nose as if in distaste. "This one is by far one of the most blandest humans that I have met. But I guess it can't be helped~" He chirped gently, smiling almost fondly at the two of the bewildered people in front of him. "Farewell, my trusted transporter! Be sure not to fail me next time~" He waved energetically, strolling down the alley without much trouble, almost seeming pleased with himself. 

She watched him depart, the fur-trimmed jacket slowly disappearing in a mass of people and darkness. 

[Why didn't you tell me that you weren't Etsuko?!] 

The motorcyclist wrote furiously, fingers hitting the keys with hard blows. Her lips curl downwards again as she searched for an excuse. She could not let all of this just go away, to fade away as a distant memory. She could not let away this rider get away.

"I-I am sorry. You helped me so much, and in the end I..." She hesitated for a better effect, leaning down in an apologetic bow. At least in this position, she wouldn't have to keep smiling like an idiot anymore. "I-I really thought that I was her. When I was standing there on the rooftop..."

She inhales sharply, listening to the silence of the black rider. 

And continues to act out her rotten show.

"I didn't know who I was or where I came from. I was just standing there, all alone, my memory blank and when you came... I just wanted some certainty. Even if it meant taking someone else's life and pretending it to be my own, I was willing to do it. Just to feel like I belong somewhere"

From their short meeting, she already knew that the rider was soft-hearted, helping complete strangers, stressing over someone else's problems, so a bit of emotional manipulation would probably do the trick. And it did.

[Please calm down! I'm sorry... I didn't know you were in such a situation...]

She smiled kindly at her, shaking her head.

"You've done enough. I was so scared, so lonely, so terrified by the fact I don't even know where my own house is" She once again bowed elegantly, finally straightening fully and facing the rider. It wasn't really hard to pull on people's heart strings, so in the end this was bound to work. Surely, this kind of dumb act would not last longer than month or few, but she honestly hoped that her goal would be accomplished by then anyways. In the end, she did feel bad for tricking people, for using them, but her personal philosophy said that causing people pain and allowing them to go through hardships meant making them stronger, thus helping them gradually. "Right now, you encouraged me. Thank you for that"

She turned on her heel, her gentle footsteps echoing through the alley, before she was stopped abruptly when the rider jumped in front of her, desperate to catch her attention, change her mind. 

[Actually, there is something that I can do for you. I don't know if you're comfortable, but... We have a spacious apartment, so if you have nowhere to go... You could stay with us!]

The smile turned into a darker smirk as soon as she finished reading it, sighing off her worries of her plans not working.


	2. The Fool

On their way back to the motorbike, the two women spared each other little chatter, both somehow occupied and enticed by the new prospects of this new relationship. The Black Rider merely introduced herself as Celty, a name uncommon for someone of Japanese ethnicity, and offered her thorough help in any matter at hand. 

"Do you always rush to any girl's rescue, or am I just special?" The young necromancer asked, obviously sarcastic, however, her cool, almost chilling voice probably managed to hide the edge of irony to the sentence. 

If the Black Rider could've flushed in embarrassment, she would have, yet only her timid fidgeting gave away how she truly felt at that moment. (First name) knew for a fact that this woman, or rather, this creature that occupied a woman's body, was far from being a human, yet at the moment she behaved like someone with a pure human heart. 

[Well, I'm always trying to help people in need, because that's only a natural thing to do, right? It's not like I'm some super hero, haha!]

The younger woman bit the bottom of her lip, trying to suppress her laughter. No wonder this thing was so easy to trick- she's completely delusional! She might be living among human beings, but she doesn't know them at all. Helping others- a natural thing to do? (First name) learnt the hard way that only selfishness is the reason why human beings so greedily breathe. No matter what they do, the only force that drives them is the thought of their own benefit, and nothing else.

She decided to stay quiet for the rest of the journey. 

The heavily lighted city of Ikebukuro dissolved into tiny pieces as soon as the motorbike began to move. It was a strange sensation of false security and freedom, but in some way, the ride itself was satisfying nonetheless. The fabric of Celty's suit rustled under (First name)'s hands as she gently gripped it, her head bobbing up and down while her eyes failed to take in the rapidly changing scenery. 

It wasn't until a defeating crash, a horrid noise of breaking glass and plastic, mixed with muffled screams, that the motorbike stopped. Celty's shoulders slumped as she shook her head disappointingly, turning sharply to face her new flatmate and pondering for less than a second of what to do next. 

[I have to check on something really quick. I will be back, just wait here, alright?] 

(First name) frowned a the PDA, firstly because the faint light disturbed her eyes, and secondly because she was not really keen on letting her chance of making her plan come true slip away that easily. However, before the young woman could clutch to the Black Rider with all her might, she was set onto the solid ground and left with her mouth gaping in disbelief. Before she even knew it, the Rider was gone in the black sunset, her motorbike solemnly neighing in their wake. 

And that was how (First name) found herself in the middle of some square, with herds of people squeezing past her, their clattering and chatter making her weak in the knees. Necromancy, just like any thing in this world, had a particular price for its maker- that meant a vulnerable body that could be easily swayed by wind- this was why broken bones and fainting were not foreign things to (First name). 

And that was also why now, when her body was giving into the sweet rest and peace that unconsciousness had to offer, her vision heavily corrupted by black dots, she cursed herself for that insatiable power lust that she harbored in every inch of her being. 

She imagined herself trampled and bloodied, bruised and smothered by those endless crowds, crying and screaming for help of those faceless, indifferent people. People, who would turn their head the other way, and continue to laugh. She took a sharp breath, closing her eyes and descending downwards only to meet damp, rough surface of--

Warm, strong hands. 

"Little lady, you okay?" 

It was a strange accent, most likely of someone from East Europe, but at the time she was too nauseous at the thought of someone touching her and seeing her in such a vulnerable state, especially with none of her undead scouts around, to ponder further about the man's nationality. She leaped forward, only to be restrained by her own body as she fell backwards again, and at that the man laughed.

It was not a laugh that mocked her or her lack of strength, or even her fears- it was a joyful laugh, one to encourage and to offer genuineness. 

"No good young lady. You eat too little and you are too weak! Come and eat some Russian sushi!" 

(First name) tilted her head backwards, her tired eyes catching one unusual sight- a black man, talking with Russian accent, apparently working in a sushi restaurant. While she tried to decide what to make of him, the girl was grasped tightly and much against her will pulled into a small but cosy sushi restaurant. 

She found herself too bewildered by a bundle of smells that reached her nostrils and by the strange situation itself to mouth any kind of comprehensible words, thus her only resistance was struggling, which grew less and less apparent as time went on. The smile on the Russian's face remained bright as ever, yet his grip was almost suffocating, one that could certainly break bones or even worse. 

"Kadota, take care of little lady when we make food! Little lady very hungry!" Cue her being pushed once again, this time towards a group of people who had surprised looks plastered across their faces. 

When her knees finally met soft cushions and she was free of any kind of stony grip, she gritted her teeth in annoyance for not being able to fight for her own dignity. In the end, when she felt some scorching gazes land upon her, she had to recompose herself, twisting her face in agony- ridden smile. 

There were four people in total- one, right next to her, was a plain looking guy with long, dirty blond hair; the two in front of her were a couple of young adults- one girl dressed in a black dress and the other one a narrow-eyed boy who already seemed mirthful about meeting a new person. The person at the front of the table seemed like the leader of this gang of four, his gaze observing her in a careful manner. 

She managed to squeeze a more believable smile.

"I-I'm really sorry. I got separated from my friend in the crowd and then I bumped into your Russian friend..." The woman's eyes flickered through the restaurant, desperate to find an exit, however, very soon her view was blocked by the young girl's face, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

"I definitely haven't seen you around here! However, the moment you walked into Russian Sushi, I realized that if this were an anime, you would be the protagonist" The girl shrunk back, clasping her hand over her chin as she thought for a second. (First name) frowned deeper as she looked into this bizarre bunch of people, shuffling her feet under the table, eager to get as far away from anything humanoid as soon as possible. "You seem just like Mikasa, with your cool and polite personality. You are the type of person who seems to have questionable morals, but in the end you goals are very noble!" 

The boy who sat next to her pondered for a mere second before jumping in front of his friend to object.

"Definitely not! She's more like kuudere type of girl who behaves all distant, but underneath that dark coat of hers she's probably hiding some super cute maid outfit! Or something more Sailor Moon-like! I bet that would fit her as well!" The boy offered (First name) a kind smile, but the discussion between him and the young girl didn't come to a halt- if anything, it sprung into an even more heated conversation.

She didn't manage to keep up with them anymore, so in the end she just gave up with a loud sigh. Now or never, she murmured in her mind, chanting for her clumsy escape plan to be successful. However, before she could even stand up, the man in the front of the table spoke up, frightening her to bits. 

"They might seem a bit weird at first, but you will get used to them" He smiled kindly and leaned in a bit, so that they could shake hands. She was hesitant, always hesitant, when it came to human contact, because someone else's skin sent electric waves up and down her spine, making her both nauseous and lightheaded. "I'm Kyohei Kadota, by the way. You are free to call me whatever, just not Dota-chin" 

The handshake was so brief that to an onlooker it could have looked like a mere pat on the palm.

"And I'm Saburo" The other guy by her right butted in, while she continued to ponder on what she should say when it was her turn to exchange names. "The driver of the van"

She decided to play it safe, even if these people were casual passersbies whom she would never even see again. Here in Ikebukuro the most unlikely of things happened- that meant that people who she hadn't even met could influence her fate a great deal. 

A large plate of sushi was set in the middle of the table, robbing her of thoughts that gnawed on her brain canvas. 

"Eat more sushi little lady and grow tall and strong! Sushi always brings peace to body and soul!"

Even though everything that flew past this man's lips was some pacifistic cliche bullshit, at least from her perspective, she could see that she was not the only one pretending to be what she really was not. This man is dangerous, she thought, I would prefer if he didn't see through me just yet. 

"Thanks Simon!" The youngest man in the group waved at the smiling Russian and separated his chopsticks only to eagerly dig into the palate of various tastes and smells. He stopped as soon as he stuffed his mouth full of sushi rolls and raised his head to stare into (First name) once again. These people were so annoying that she barely managed to curl her lips back up into a strained smile. 

"Actually, we never got our guest's name" 

The whole lot stopped their feast only to gaze upon her, waiting for her answer. 

"To be honest, I don't remember my name. I don't remember anything about myself. For all I know, I could be a serial killer on the run" She gave a dry chuckle, all kinds of lies flowing fluently past her gentle lips. 

All four of them stared at the girl with their mouths agape, concern and terror written down their face. If she wasn't so keen on keeping the act up, she would have burst out laughing right into their faces. Of course, that kind of cruelty didn't fascinate her- there were far better ways to make someone suffer. She, positively, did not feel resentful enough to put these people through hell, but they were an inconvenience that delayed the execution of her goals.

"That is so... COOL!" Now it was the teenage boy's face that blocked her area of vision, making her growl in irritation once again. "You're like an anime villain who got a second chance in redemption since he was able to forget all of his sins and horrible past!"

The girl in black shook her head again, yet this time she only nibbled on her sushi, without bothering to argue anymore. 

"Those two are Erica and Walker" Kadota pointed his chopsticks towards the teenagers, capturing (First name)'s attention completely. Apparently, he was gracious enough not to eye her like a creature worth of pity anymore, and for that she was thankful. "You should eat up now. We will drop you off at some hotel if you want"

The sushi was a bit different than anything that she has eaten before, a bit too spicy, but the unique savor did urge her to eat more and more. It was quiet at the table as everyone greedily consumed their share, and very soon the plate was empty with only few stray lumps of rice here and there. With her most earthly urges satisfied, the young necromancer once again allowed herself to drift to the world of dark arts and rotten flesh, noting to find a local cemetery for some new material. 

As the large group of people finally squeezed past Russian Sushi's front door and bidded their farewells to Simon, (First name) found herself in front of the van, debating on what she should do next. 

"I should be waiting for my friend here" She stopped the moment Saburo opened the van's door, feeling somewhat distrustful of these people once again. 

They stopped.

"Friend? I thought you said that you were amnesiac?" Erica cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

"I met her today. She offered me a place to stay" Their faces still contained doubt, perhaps even concern for some accidental stranger who stumbled across their table, but the very fact that Ikebukuro's inhabitants had a habit of sticking their nose in someone's business made her let out a long mental sigh. "She is a tall woman in a black suit and yellow helmet. Her name is Celty."

Erica's face lit up the second the Black Biker's name was uttered.

"That's our Celty for you!"

"You know, if you still need that ride back home, we can drop you off at Shinra's and Celty's apartment" Kadota offered, gesturing to the van once again. "I think she'll be happier if you are home safe than wondering around streets, especially with a severe case of amnesia"

She pondered for a moment. Sure, the sooner she got rid of these people, the better, but she was still feeling somewhat faint, not to mention her feet were swollen from all the walking she had done today. Few minutes of awkwardness were surely a cheap price to pay for a shower and a bed. 

She reluctantly gave in with a weak nod of a head. 

The ride 'home' wasn't as eventful as she would have expected. The Walker guy dozed off on Erica's shoulder, and while she sometimes pointed at some of the buildings outside, cheerfully telling stories behind them, the atmosphere itself was peaceful. 

Peaceful was not a good adjective for what has been happening up in the apartment, though, nor for the person who currently resided inside of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It came out horribly, I know. But thank you very much for reading it! I would appreciate a comment or two... I dunno if this story is worth writing, but right now I seem to be enjoying it. It's refreshing.
> 
> See you guys in the next chapter~


	3. The Priestess

There is a searing pain within the folds of her chest, so she cannot help but feel uneasy as she slowly climbs the stairs that lead into her new residence. Kadota tails her in his own steady steps, remaining quiet, but somehow that silence is comforting.

She feels exhausted and uncertain, her own mind racing with various choices and with her lack of time, both hysteria and paranoia occupying the most secluded corners of her sanity. 

But like a fool she clings to hope.

"This is their apartment" Kadota breaks her train of thought and she raises her eyes to meet his, a genuine and friendly light basking within them. "Just so you know- if you ever need any help, just find us. We'll do everything we can to help you out"

He knocks gently. 

She ponders for a second what would happen if she were to tell him that she does indeed need help to bring havoc to Ikebukuro and to kill a man that could perhaps even destroy it. 

She smiles and nods. 

The door burst open to reveal Celty, black smoke oozing out of her helmet, perhaps as a signal for her utter relief upon seeing the girl at her doorstep. 

[Thank God you're fine! I felt really guilty for leaving you all alone in that street!] Celty types furiously, her fingers tapping the PDA in light-like speed. Her head turns to Kadota, who just stands there with his hands tucked into his pockets. [Oh, Kadota! I guess you were the one who brought her here. I had a bit of a, uh, inconvenience along the way, so thank you for taking care of my friend.]

"It was no problem, Celty" He lowers his gaze to his new acquaintance. "Nice meeting you too. I hope you'll regain your memory soon. See ya" He raises his hand to bid his farewells.

Kadota is quick to leave the apartment, perhaps a bit too quick, because next thing she feels is Celty's firm hand grasping hers and pulling her into the apartment. She is about to type something into her PDA, but is stopped by a sudden voice.

"Who's at the door, Celty?" (First name) freezes the second she hears a voice of a man and pokes her head through the Black Rider's shoulder to confirm the impending threat of even more inconveniences. 

Seated at the what she presumed to be the living room was a man somewhat resembling a doctor, with a white coat drenched in round blood stains, and a rather hulk looking blond man with a bartender suit and sunglasses. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from groaning.

The Doctor remains cheerful even when he casts a second-long glance to the necromancer, his eyes quickly flickering back to Celty, to question her. 

[Oh, Shinra! This is, uh] The Black Rider stops mid sentence as she realizes the absence of the name of the girl behind her. [My friend. She will be living with us for some time]

The face of the pale man twists in many colors of anguish, until he finally settles with a deep pout. She notes that he waves those blood coated arms way too flamboyantly, lacking any kind of concentration or dedication to his job, or any respect to the patient. 

"Aww, Celty you can't be serious! Just this morning I was planning a super romantic dinner for just the two of us and now you're saying we'll have to spend the night together with this brat?" He lazily points towards the young woman, his eyes narrowing in playful hatred and disappointment. She refrains from saying anything, but tries to remember if there are any local rat poison shops anywhere nearby.

Celty fidgets uncomfortably, her head swaying left and right, but in the end she does not type anything. The Black Rider looks awkwardly at the man seated on the couch, a faint trail of smoke surrounding his head.

[S-Shizuo why don't you go ahead and say 'hello' to her as well?]

This way she tries to brighten the somewhat somber atmosphere, yet in the end she unknowingly makes things even worse. 

The man does not turn his head even a slightest, but she knows that he is looking at her by the corner of his eye- and the fact that those sunglasses prevent her from seeing his eyes and the raw emotions that course through them is driving her mad.

"This girl" She can she the corner of his mouth twitching and turning, a strong vein pulsating on his neck. "I don't like her"

She wants to laugh, truly, because if anything in this world is worth appreciation, then it's honesty. Lying to others and to yourself has become a daily thing, a grotesque thing that everyone does to create world of illusions, where reality and honesty is non-present. 

She wants to laugh because this man managed to see through her the moment she walked into this room. This man, perhaps, could be able to escape the utter devastation that she is going to bring. 

He stands up, his broad shoulders facing her, few bloodied cuts on his back, creating an impression of a wounded beast, one that is determined to fight til the last drop of its blood. 

Her instincts are telling her to run, but she is no coward. She is prepared to kill and to slaughter in cruelest methods only to reach her goal, however, she will not bow to anyone, as so she will not be humiliated either.

The young woman stands her grand as the Bartender turns to face her.

"Kinda reminds me of flea, just doesn't stink that much" He snarls and she ponders who the hell is the 'flea' he speaks of, but does not really push and ask right away. Her gaze is concentrated on his face, namely his covered eyes, showing no desperation or fear as he walks closer. 

[You really got the wrong idea, Shizuo! She is a very, very nice person and I will not let you badmouth her. You don't even know her!!]

Celty finally breaks the tense atmosphere that the man of a calm nature and few words has created, jumping in between two stubborn thorns. The young woman smirks slightly at the amount of trust that the Black Rider puts into her, and once again blesses the coincidence called fate that allowed her to meet this peculiar creature. 

"Well, to be honest, Celty, Shizuo didn't really need to get to know Izaya to tell that he is a bad person, too. Though, I did--" Shinra's lips curl into a nostalgic smile as he recalls his past, yet very soon he's snapped out of his memories by a very angry looking Celty.

[That's not the point!!!]

While Celty furiously searched for any kind of proof that (First name) is in fact a person worth of her trust, the young necromancer does not lower her guard and turns her gaze towards the tall figure of the blond man. Even though she can not see where his eyes trails, she feels his scorching glance, one that was prying her skin off to see the malicious spirit of a woman that belongs to dark arts. 

She does not allow that to distract her, though.

"Hey, you" Shizuo's voice is low and raspy, but she knows immediately that he is referring to her. She notices a cigarette rolling between his lips, emitting a faint trail of smoke that makes her sick to her stomach, but she refrains from wrinkling her nose at it. "I may not know you, but I get the feeling you're going to cause trouble here in Ikebukuro"

Celty and Shinra's playful argument breaks the second Shizuo takes a step forward, taking his sunglasses off only to get a better look at (First name). She narrows her eyes, holding his gaze, yet a shiver runs down her spine as soon as she catches a glint of raw anger in his chocolate orbs. 

The owners of the apartment freeze when the breathing of Ikebukuro's beast quickens and deepens, and Shinra subconsciously moves closer to his brand new fridge. 

"And that would really, really piss me off" 

She holds her breath for a second, his face twisting with such raw anger that she, for a mere split second, felt her heart skip a beat. Not in a romantic way, of course, but she feels fascinated by this human being- for the first time she sees a person who is so full of vibrancy, emotions and strength.

Someone who is a complete opposite to her.

Shizuo's shoulders shrink and the look in his eyes is replaced by a new, indifferent one. Sighs of relief are lifted off three tense chests. 

He takes a few steps forward, despite Celty's frustration and voiceless pleading, until the noses of his black shoes hit (First name)'s. The man towers her completely, his shadow descending upon her quivering form, however, even in such a situation the young woman manages to keep her face cool, none of her facial muscles as much as twitching as she gazes deeply into his eyes, challenging him. 

"I recommend that you stay out of this city, though" His tone no longer possesses the rough edge as it did before, his eyes now calmer and perhaps even lighter. "Because if I hear about you hurting my friends, I'll hunt you down"

The threat echoes through her mind as Shizuo pulls his sunglasses back into their former place and straightens his back. Both Shinra and Celty just stand there bewildered, their lack of words giving him just the time to wave at them and exit the apartment. 

She knows one thing- this person was for real. He looked composed and so quiet for one minute, and the second he was about to lash out and create a bloodbath. However, this new enemy did not maker her fear the day they would face off.

It was the opposite- she could hardly contain herself from learning who this Shizuo person really was, and crushing him under the sole of her boot. 

Celty is the first one to step up next to (First name) and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

[H-He had a bad day today. You shouldn't worry, I think he is going to get back to his normal self and apologize soon. Our Shizuo is actually very nice, well, not to Izaya, and not when he is mad, but my point is that he was probably really pissed off. He didn't mean what he said.]

Oh, he did. And he was right to say all of those things, (First name) thought as she fought back a cunning smirk.

"...I know, Celty. But..." She stops for a second, swallowing her saliva. "What if he's right? I don't know anything about myself. Maybe I really am... a bad person"

In her mind, she once again praises herself for that 'amnesia' card.

"Hypothetically speaking" Shinra buts in, propping his chin in the palm of his right hand. "Memory loss occurs among criminals much more often than it does among normal civilians since criminals are more frequently exposed to head traumas leading to damage of hippoca--" Cue choking sounds as dark shadows that emerged from Celty's hand curl around tightly around his neck. "Chaa-C-Celty..T-Tight...C-Chok-king..."

The Black Rider's shoulders slump as she untangles the poor man from the web of her shadows, and once again turns her PDA towards (First name).

[Don't listen to him. I can tell that you are a very sincere and nice person. And I promise to take care of you til you get your memories back!]

She pauses for a second, her fingers lingering over the bright screen. The Rider seems so distant, lost in her thoughts that the necromancer can't help but ponder what could have provoked such a change in her behavior. 

"I know I said it already, Celty, but thank you. I don't think... I would still be here without you"

The next thing that (First name) feels is a touch of Celty's warm hands, clutching her own cold palms in between. She does not know what got Celty so emotional, but the way she squeezes her hands, the way her shoulders tremble signal her utter devotion to the new acquaintance. 

[Everything will be fine. I promise to protect you no matter what happens]

However, very soon Celty's hands are ripped off (First name), whilst a very furious looking doctor holds the Black Rider close.

"Don't go around touching my Cel--O-Ow, that hurt!"

 

The night in Ikebukuro blossomed fruitfully and before long the young woman found herself in the bathroom, dressed in a loosely fitting pajama. The owners of the apartment made sure that all of her needs were accommodated before they headed off to their shared bedroom, leaving her all alone in dimly lit room. (First name) waited for few moments, only to make sure that both Shinra and Celty were long gone in the dreamworld, and when that was confirmed, she slowly prepared the tiles of the bathroom for her work. 

It took a few moments before she spread pages of Latin writings on the floor and formed a circle of salt in which she quickly stepped, but the moon hadn't even completely settled beneath the sheets of hollow clouds when the necromancer was already chanting for a spirit of an undead to emerge before its master. 

She felt her own chest tighten when green light illuminated the room, quiet, sorrowful moans gnawing at her ears, yet she did not dare to quit the ritual or stop her chanting, her determined gaze awaiting the fruits of her ominous work. 

Out of thick, acidic green smoke that surrounded the necromancer, a faint figure of a man materialized, yet in no sense did he resemble a human being. His face was frozen in a horrible frown, his eyes filled with nothing but sorrow. 

"Necromancer" He spoke in a cold voice and yet made no attempt to attack the woman before him, only stood there frozen in place, observing her with those no longer seeing eyes.

She frowned at him but her body did relax as she realize the spirit would not dare to refuse her or do her ill.

"Do not address me so informally, spirit of the Netherworld" She almost snapped at him, noting her own moodiness. Usually, she tried to think of this as business- no feelings, no regrets, no shame for doing something so immoral, yet now, for some reason, she felt so utterly miserable and frustrated. It was this city, she knew, and once again cursed it, cursed it thousands of times because it could never become her home, its residents could never appreciate her. This kind of bitterness was a sign of weakness, so she signed, trying to recompose herself.

It didn't help. 

"Forgive my rudeness, Mistress" He mocked her in some way, or perhaps she was just being paranoid, but either way this man was beginning to anger her. "For what purpose did you summon me today?"

"I need answers about this city and its people" She paused, and when he did not refuse, (First name) continued carefully. "Tell me about the gangs that I have heard so much about"

"There are many gangs in this city, kind Mistress, but only few of them concern you. The Dollars are a growing force of faceless and colorless warriors, ones that strike from behind. The Yellow Scarves are a deteriorating gang, one that has fallen apart and poses you no threat. The Blue Squares are a silent force, now ruled by the leader of Dollars, who wishes to cleanse his former gang."

She rubbed her temples, tapping her bare foot into the tiles, easing the growing headache. This day turned out to be a catastrophe- not only does this city possess a complicated bundle of personalities, it's also a web of gangs and unknown forces. She cursed Ikebukuro again, knowing that she lacks both time and power to overcome these obstacles. 

"Tell me of the people of this city. About those who could interfere with my plans" She corrected herself, her calculative gaze piercing through the eyes of spirit as she searched for any trace of lies or mischief. However, she found none. 

"There is Mikado Ryugamine, the leader of both Dollars and Blue Squares. He is the man that has caused disturbance in this city" The spirit talked with little emotion or will, clearly leaving out some information, but (First name) knew she could not be too choosy about what she gets from undead. After all, she was the one who imprisoned them and they regarded her as anything but pleasant. "A girl named Anri Sonohara is a wielder of demonic blade, Saika, and can put anyone under her control by cutting them. There is a man of who goes by the name of Shizuo Heiwajima, named the Strongest Man in Ikebukuro, since he possesses inhuman strength. Another man you should look out for is an information broker Izaya Orihara. Of course, perhaps the most peculiar one out of the bunch is the Headless Rider- Celty Sturluson, a dullahan who lost her head and searches for it to this day."

Those were a lot of names to take in, especially for someone as exhausted as (First name). Honestly, was it really naive to hope that these people would mind their own business and let her do as she wishes?

"Alright then" She scoffed, feeling sleepy all of the sudden. She knows that she must not forget that she is in front of a spirit, one that would lunge at her any second if she were to let her guard down, however, she is also only a girl, who has left the only home she knew and was thrown in this city, which seems so hostile and indifferent. "Tell me about my future. Are there any things that I should avoid or people whom I should get rid of now?"

This time, however, the spirit remained quiet, it's hollow eyes boring into (First name)'s.

"Well? Speak up, servant" She grew impatient, her speech pattern twisted with roughness and impoliteness, however, it did not faze the undead. 

"That I cannot tell you. You are a rare case, necromancer, because you hold your fate in your own hands and you are the one who weaves it. A strong soul, that you are, but that does not mean the path you choose will be a happy one. Someone like you does not strive for happiness but rather for goals that cannot be accomplished, and thus a path they choose is often a path of self-destruction."

Her lips curl downwards in an unsatisfied frown, her eyes narrowing dangerously as the being of other side lectures her, speaking so idly when such pressing matters are still at hand. She felt her own pride hurt as the spirit refused to execute what she requested of it, and yet she knew that there was no way she could force it do as she wants. 

"Stop speaking in riddles, spirit. Tell me about my future or be gone." 

Her temper was getting the better of her, anger seeping through her veins, and she noted that this session should be ended as soon as possible, before she took more violent measures to relief her weariness. 

"You know better than anyone that I shall not give you an upper hand, Alchemist of Grief" She felt her heart stop for a second, since she wasn't called that for a very long time. So long that this name didn't feel like it could belong to her, or define her- and yet, in some most inner and intimate parts of her, she longed to be called like that, to remember those days in a flamboyant manner. "However, I can tell you that no matter what path you choose, you will face two things you dread the most. And the man that you wish to destroy, the man who was the reason why you came here, will take the one you love the most away."

Two things she dreads the most? Someone who she loves the most? All of these things, these prophecies were ridiculous, and if anything, they only confused her all the more. The spirit began to lose form and shape, turning into nothing but acid green mist and slowly enveloped the necromancer's legs. Her body trembled once again, her breathing turning quick and irregular, her vision blurry. 

For a moment, she probably lost consciousness, because by the time she fully comprehended time and place, the mist was gone, the spirit- only a memory. She stumbled through the stray pages with smudged writings until her head hit the mirror and she hissed in pain, rubbing her forehead. When she did open her pain-ridden eyes, the thing that she saw scared her enough to make her shriek.

Her face was pale, eyes swollen and hollow, a thick trail of blood dripping all the way from her nose to her chin. 

She was warned that necromancy took its toll on her body, but never were the effects as physical as this time. It scared her, and for a second she wanted to stop all of this, but this moment of weakness passed and she wiped away the blood, calming herself. 

With that, (First name) tip toed to her room, slipping under the blankets and sighing in both pleasure and relief as her body and mind took in the comfort and softness of a long-awaited bed. She tried not to think further about what the spirit said or what the future truly held for her- she needed rest, only rest right now, because tomorrow she would truly begin to change the life of people here, in Ikebukuro. 

She did not fear anything. She loved no one. 

This meant that the prophecy was all a mistake. Everything, she repeated slowly to herself, everything that I planned will go well. After all, there is not a person in this world that can stop me now, for I have passed the point of redemption. 

Little did the necromancer know that the city of Ikebukuro and its residents would prove her wrong very soon.


End file.
